Twice Slap, Thrice Hurt
by Emotional-Hikari
Summary: Ron finds himself in a compromising situation, and becomes torn between what he previously was, and how the energy inside him is changing and reshaping his whole world. Warnings inside; R&R.
1. Chapter 1

Right so – decided that I needed to get my arse into gear and churn out a shitty story, so here we are… too much reading of mpreg fics have lead to this, so enjoy – and if you don't… then why the fuck are you reading this?

**Warnings:** Contains homosexual male on male activities/hints, mpreg – aka male pregnancy. Hate them? Then please hit back space and don't bitch in my face about it.

**Rating:** T (may or may not changed)

**I, in no right, own any of the characters I'm about to exploit! They belong to JKR – she's the one making the money, not me!**

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**-Chapter One: Hit in the ***-**

He retched hard as he just barely made it to the toilet bowl, clinging to the sides tight till his knuckles turned a stark, ghostly white. He had never felt more humiliated in his life – he had been, mid-argument with the twins and was actually winning for once before he got struck by a sudden nausea and lost his striking blow, clamped his hand tight over his mouth and ran upstairs to the bathroom, where he's presently hurling his dinner. The bile burned his throat, his eyes were bleary red and still his stomach churned out more, feeling his grip weaken as he tried to keep up-right long enough for it to pass.

"FUCK!" He managed to yell out when his mouth wasn't occupied throwing up tonight's dinner; why did food have to taste wonderful going down, but horrible coming up.

"Oy! Watch your language young man!" He heard his mother yell from downstairs, his face contorting in slight annoyance for the nag, but he didn't have time to revel in the thought as his stomach did another flip, leaning back over the bowl. He heard footsteps coming up the old twisted stairs, hearing them coming closer to the bathroom, but he couldn't look up or turn his head without making a mess to see who it was. It turned out to be his mother.

"Honestly – I don't know what you're picking up at school, but – RON!" Molly went into her instinctive maternal mode, hiking up her robes and immediately rushed to kneel behind her youngest son, bent over the toilet bowl, puking his guts out. Ron felt assuring hands rub his shoulders, gagging, coughing and hoping that was the last of his bout – he felt he had emptied all the contents of his meal before. His head was spinning too much to catch anything his mother was saying, but he could clearly hear her call out his father's name, her warmth present leaving his side.

He found himself later, lying in bed, tucked tightly in his sheets, and his mother sitting on the edge, wiping his fevered forehead with a cool, wet cloth. Molly refused to leave him alone, Ron insisting over and over again he was fine.

"Really, I'm all right, mum!"

"By Merlin if you are! You've just thrown up your entire dinner and you're burning up!" Ron grumbled and slouched further in his sheets, still muttering he wasn't ill. Molly only shook her head, glancing to her only and youngest daughter to take her seat, handing the girl the cloth. Ginny sat next to her brother, only giving him a sympathetic smile as she reached over to wipe his forehead down; Ron whined a little, but let her – he always favoured his little sister, even if he rarely showed it. The twins popped in for a brief moment to check on him, a gesture while under normal circumstances would've been appreciated Ron knew they'd rub it in his face concerning their previous, interrupted argument.

Molly chased them all out, giving the twins several nags, although she knew she had even less power over them now that they've moved out to be nearer their joke shop. While she'd never admit, she was quite proud of the establishment her boys have set up, and disapproving as she was of their idleness, she acknowledged there was some genius in there – she only wished they'd be more serious about it once in a while. With all the children shooed out, and Ginny whisked off to bed, the matriarch sat with her son, till he dozed off to sleep. Pushing his hair back with a gentle smile, Molly whispered her good nights, and hoped he'd be better in the morning, before kissing him tenderly on the forehead.

**-8-**

The fresh smell of bread, eggs and bacon was enough to entice him to the table, but the moment he sat down in the chair and leaned his arms forward, he knocked out. He couldn't understand why he was suddenly exhausted, despite having slept the whole night. There was a gentle tap at his shoulder, at which he groaned and shrugged off, feeling someone shaking him lightly; he lifted his head up, bright blue eyes glaring up at his father, light brown eyes staring at him in concern.

"You all right, son?" Ron only grunted, leaning his chin against his arm as he slumped back on the table, eyes falling shut as he simply savoured the sultry, sweet smells as his mother cooked breakfast for them. Molly glanced over her shoulder at the small ensemble – the house seemed so much larger now that it was only her, her husband and her two youngest children left. Even though Bill had returned to work closer with the order, he had his own little place, along with his now Fiancée – which, Molly scowled a little at the thought – Fleur Delacour. The twins got a place above their shop to be close to their business and Percy – it was too touchy a subject.

The elder woman sighed as she waved her wand to finish off the food – to think there was a point in time when she had been vigorously anticipating the day the children were all moved out. Now that it was starting to become a reality, she realised just how much having a full house made it more lively. She turned around with plates in hand, plopping the first one in front of Ron, hoping the smell would be strong enough to wake him up. When he didn't move, she resorted to more physical methods.

"Ron, honey? Your breakfast is ready; come on dear – time to get up!" Ron startled awake at his mother's voice, rubbing at his eyes sleepily, murmuring an apology and a thank you, before hazily picking up his fork and began eating. Molly sighed and shook her head in a worrying manner; out of all her children, Ron and Charlie always had the healthier appetite. If either of those two didn't have food as their top priority at the right hour, it was the first sign to the elder Weasley something was wrong. She let them enjoy their meal in peace though, she and Arthur engaging in pleasant conversation, steering him away whenever he headed into the direction touching about – You-Know-Who. It was a hard, blaring truth Molly wished hadn't become real – but it had, and it was out now and everyone was on edge; even though she worried everyday – for her husband, her family, for Harry – she wanted that small mind of happiness and relaxation that was becoming rarer and rarer as the Dark Lord grew stronger.

Arthur wiped his mouth clean on his napkin, before glancing at the clock, excusing himself – he needed to be at work soon. He cleaned up his soiled dishes, gave both his children a quick kiss on the cheek, giving Molly hers on the lips before he dashed off to the fireplace and disappeared in the flames. Molly looked to her daughter, Ginny already cleaning up her dishes, before heading up to her room – no doubt to write in her little journal or do whatever summer homework she was given. Her concern doubled seeing Ron still perched on his arms, eyes closed and practically asleep sitting up. Her only relief was that his plate was empty.

"Ron? Dear – come on, wake up, please." Molly shook his shoulder tenderly, forcing the worry and despair out of her voice; Ron jolted awake, blinking up at her through bleary eyes. He rubbed at them, suppressing a yawn with little success; Molly gently rubbed his shoulders.

"Are you all right, honey?"

"I'm fine, mum – just tired all of a sudden." He didn't dare tell her he was feeling light-headed and dizzy to boot, not to mention the threatening wave of nausea. She didn't seem convinced, Ron quickly getting out of his seat – which was a bad idea – and stumbled his way up to his room. He nearly collided with his door, catching himself before he could do any real harm to either said object or his body, and paused for a moment. He waited for the rest of his head to catch up from the dash from the kitchen to his room, taking in several deep breaths, before he felt confident enough he could make it to his bed and collapse then. Which he managed, falling face first into his pillow; he barely got himself in a more comfortable position, before blacking out completely.

The next time he awoke was the sound to his mother's rapping at the door, announcing that lunch was ready. Ron groaned miserably, not wanting to lift himself off from this comfortable haven of his bed; which was unusual since his mattress was worn, battered and lumpy from years of abuse. He pushed himself up with hard effort, managing to slide his feet to the floor before he got struck by a heavy haziness. The room suddenly swirled out of focus, the colours fading and blending into one; he put a hand to his head, closing his eyes to try and settle the sudden pounding in his head, and resisting the urge to retch as his stomach tightened and gurgled.

He couldn't remember the moments between sitting on his bed, clutching his head to finding himself crawling on all fours, hurling all over the wooden floor. He reckoned he had attempted to make a dash to the bathroom, but had been too weak to even make it off his bed, and resorted to just spewing it on the floor. He heard his sister shriek a little, before hearing her scream out for their mother.

"MUM! COME UP HERE!" Molly threw into a panic whirl, dropping everything she was doing and bolted up the stairs at the sound of her daughter's pitched voice. She found the young girl standing outside her brother's door, relieved to see she was all right, but at the same time, worried for her son. She turned in, pushing past Ginny before taking a few startling steps back; Ron gagged as he threw up the last of whatever was left in his stomach from breakfast, before falling back on his heels, burying his face embarrassingly in his forearms. He was so glad it was just them and no one else. Molly waved her wand in one quick motion and the mess disappeared in an instant – a notion Ginny was thankful for, as she felt she would be next in getting sick if it wasn't take care of soon. Molly hustled to where the redhead male was slouched over on the floor, kneeling down as she took his shoulders; she helped Ron sit up, tears streaming down his face and just looking an absolute mess. She took the edge of her robes, firmly rubbing away at Ron's face, the teenager moaning and whining in protest both at the action and that his mother was getting her robe dirty.

"I'm s-sorry…" He choked out, reaching a shaky hand to wipe at his watering eyes; Molly gently shushed him, using her thumb to wipe at the corner of his eye. She took him into a loving embrace, slowly rocking him back and forth like she had always done with all of them, back when she could still hold them in her arms. Ron leaned against his mother's shoulder, letting her soothing, experienced hands comb his hairs, and rub small circles on his back. He let his eye lids fall shut, feeling the peaceful lure of sleep creep up on him – before another wave of nausea hit him, clinging to his mother's sleeves as he tried to pull away. Molly, however, held on to him tighter.

"N-no! Mum! I-I'm gonna be sick!" Molly pulled away in an instant, quickly conjuring up a bucket that Ron grabbed without thought, near sticking his head in as he gave a dry-heave. There was nothing left to throw back up, so the motion was more painful than the previous two had been. Once Molly was sure she could get her son settled and still standing in one piece, she quickly dust off her robes, hoisted Ron by the arm and started dragging him out of the room.

"Hospital – now! _All_ of us!" She stated sternly; Ginny stepped aside as her mother dragged her brother out of his room, following them down the stairs to the fireplace. Ron tried to open his mouth to protest it was unnecessary, but the Weasley matriarch wouldn't hear a word of it, gripping his arm painfully tight as she connected them to the closest fireplace to St Mungo's as she could get. She made Ginny go first, before following in closely behind Ron as they went through the flames together, and proceeded to rush them all to the hospital.

**-8-**

The trip back had been silent, slow and very uncomfortable as they opted for a less chaotic method to return home; Ron couldn't speak as he walked in through the doors of the Burrow, standing in the middle of the room as the information tried to sink in. Molly closed the door behind them, glancing up to see her youngest boy rooted to the spot, unsure what she was feeling, but there was one thing that was absolutely certain – she needed answers.

A light tap and barely a word startled him; she could see he was upset, anxious and frightened. The elder Weasley didn't say anything, nodding to the couches cramped in the small space on the other side; Ron looked away from his mother, hesitantly making his way to the worn out cushions, sinking slowly into his seat. Ginny took a place in the armchair left of him, Molly sitting directly in front of him on the opposing chair. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

She sat calmly and still, watching her son, eyes never once leaving his face, studying his body language; she knew he wasn't going to confess so easily, and the news they had just received at the hospital was quite a big shock – though even that was an underestimate of their feelings. She cleared her throat, deciding to risk the plunge.

"So… is there _anything_ you'd like to tell me, dear?" she asked softly, hoping she didn't sound as harsh and cold as her own ears were making it; Ron didn't look up at her, turning his gaze to the side. Ginny pursed her lips, shoulders tensed, sitting rigidly in her seat. Molly tried not to move, not to tap her fingers, move her foot – she wanted to seem as calm as possible; she didn't want Ron picking up the wrong signals just because she was feeling apprehensive and uneasy.

"… Well dear?" She inquired when nothing more was said after a good deal of five minutes; her tone must've not been as loving and soft she was going for. Ron closed his eyes tight leaning forward to bury his face in his hands as the tears just came pouring through. Molly was up on her feet and kneeling in front of her son; Ginny thought for a moment her mother had apparated, shushing him, resting her hands on his knees.

"Oh no, no, no honey; don't cry, it's all right. Oh hush, it's all right – I'm not mad. Shh – come now." It took perhaps ten minutes of good coaxing, the feel of her soothing hands running through his hair, and several kisses on the forehead before he had calmed down some – enough that he was comfortable to speak again. Molly stood up as she embraced him around his head, still murmuring soft, encouraging whispers.

"I – I'm s-sorry, m-mum." He choked incoherently, the Weasley matriarch hushing him with a gentle finger, pulling back to gaze at him. She pushed the hair away from his face, giving him her warm, motherly smile.

"I won't judge, dear – I just want to know the story, is all." Ron bit his lip, but nodded his head in slight shame, muttering he wanted his father to hear it too. Molly only nodded, petting his head before letting him go; she glanced over to her daughter, sitting still, stiff and tense.

"And I suppose you knew?"

"Well… I knew he was queer." She answered vaguely; Molly sighed, knowing she wasn't going to get a straight reply even from her own daughter. The two youngest, despite not seeming so close were fierce in protecting each other's secrets. Molly gave Ron one last encouraging pat, before freeing him and his sister, letting them go off to do whatever it was they wished. She sat a moment by herself as she watched her children disappear up the stairs; for once, she could not even guess what her husband's reaction would be to this news, but she hoped it for the better.

**-8-**

The tea was growing cold as the silence stretched between them, the minutes crawling by at what seemed like hours, and he was beginning to wonder if he'd ever show a reaction or even find strength to muster one up. Arthur sat still, his mouth slacked and eyes staring deep, immersed in shock; Molly sat next to him, hands twitching, twirling, and nerve-wrecked at how her husband would respond once the initial shock wore off.

"Oh good lord…" Was all he answered with, pulling off his glasses as he reached to pinch the bridge of his nose; Ron ducked his eyes to the floor in shame. Molly glanced between the two males, making an odd motion with her hand, before decidedly resting it on her husband's arm.

"I – well, this – I'm sure…" she couldn't figure what to say to ease the sudden tension between father and son; the father distraught and overwhelmed he didn't know what he was feeling, and the son ashamed and embarrassed he couldn't face him. Molly put a finger to her teeth, gently biting down; she didn't want to face another argument – not after what happened between Arthur and Percy a year ago. Arthur sighed heavily as he placed his glasses back on his nose, gazing at his son blankly; his face twitched at the remorse and guilt written all over Ron's posture.

"… Do you at least know who the father is?" He asked, his tone shaking but whether it was in anger or in weary, he couldn't tell. Ron bit his lip hard, not daring to face either of his parents as he hesitantly shook his head, trying hard not shed the tears threatening to spill from the corner of his eyes. His father surprised him a little, as the elder man stood up to his feet, giving him a stern, harsh frown.

"I thought we raised you better than that! How could you do something like this?" Ron flinched at the tone and increased volume of his father's voice. Molly quickly stood up alongside him, swiftly pacifying her husband with a stern look, and a hissed whisper. Arthur looked at her slightly irritated, the woman giving him a knowing, nagging look before motioning with her eyes to their son. He looked over across the table, seeing the young teen with his head ducked down low, shoulders shaking and his breathing labored and uneven as the redhead tried to hold back his tears. The elder settled down some as his own maternal instincts kicked in, easing himself back down into the chair. He reached out clumsily for his cup of tea, near tipping it over as he took an unsteady sip, gathering his thoughts together. Without warning he got up out of his seat and rushed over to his son's side; Molly worried for a moment what was about to happen, only to be pleasantly surprised that the elder man pulled their son into a tight embrace. Even Ron seemed to have been caught off guard by the motion.

"I'm sorry, son, I didn't mean to snap at you like that, I just… lord, this is something I expected from Charlie, not you." The redhead nodded tentatively, reaching to hold on to the arm wrapped around him, feeling his father give him a light squeeze.

"You did use, um, contraceptives, right?" Molly asked rather awkwardly; the red on Ron's face rivaled the red hair of his family as he nodded his head slowly. It was one thing discussing about sexuality and intimacy with your parents – but talking about your private sex life with said parents was a completely different matter. Arthur cleared his throat, glancing off to a far, unrelated corner as he asked an even more awkward question.

"Um… how many have you… um…" He couldn't even finish asking it, but Ron knew what he was asking, the red on his face turning impossibly darker.

"… f-five…" He mumbled so softly, it was a miracle either heard him.

"Just five?" His mother asked; Ron nodded once, before shaking his head in defeat.

"But, um – there were just five who, um, were regulars…" he added hastily, feeling the blush spreading through the rest of his body. He could hear both his mother and father sigh pushing himself away from his father's warm embrace, but Arthur held him fast.

"So there are five possible candidates?"

"No – only two that fit the time frame." He answered calmly, but didn't dare tell either of them who they were, no matter how much pestering or coaxing his parents did. He just couldn't tell them – no matter who it was, the reaction would not be positive either way.

Ronald Bilius Weasley was either pregnant with his best friend's child, or his worst enemy's – and there was no way either result would fly well with any of them.

**-Chapter One: End-**

Oh it will get one more twist than that, I promise you for sure.


	2. Chapter 2

Yeah, more to read, little more background of certain habits and old ones that die hard… butchering of terms and overall language, but have fun reading.

**Warnings:** Contains homosexual male on male activities/hints, mpreg – aka male pregnancy. Hate them? Then please hit back space and don't bitch in my face about it.

**Rating:** T (may or may not changed)

**I, in no right, own any of the characters I'm about to exploit! They belong to JKR – she's the one making the money, not me!**

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**-Chapter Two: Reflection to End-**

To say he had been miserable was an understatement; he couldn't stop puking almost every meal of the day, was collapsing on his feet from fatigue and worse still – he had to have the absolute last person he wanted under the same roof as him. Ron had been avoiding Harry since he arrived at the Burrow, wishing almost fervently for the summer to end just so he could have some distance between him and the other teen. He only paid half attention to Harry rant on about his brief trip with Dumbledore, the inheritance left to him from his godfather, and meeting the new professor Slughorn. He just didn't want to have the other near him knowing that Harry was a possible father to the child growing steadily inside of him.

He felt his stomach churn, biting back the threat of sickness coming upon him; his mother had walked him through the symptoms, what to expect with his current condition and nagging him on all the pre-cautionary steps necessary to keep him and the child well supported. He was so glad he'd be passing the third month mark by the time he got to school – his mother said it was around the third or fourth month that the "morning" sickness tended to slow down or stop completely.

He scoffed – whoever the nut was that named it "morning sickness" obviously didn't suffer through carrying a child, or they would've named it more appropriately.

"Ron? Are you all right? You look like you're gonna faint." He tensed at the voice and hand on his shoulder, quickly shrugging the other boy off.

"I'm fine, thanks." He muttered, not daring to look up into emerald green eyes glancing at him almost dejected expression on his face. Hermione, however, had noticed frowning at her friend's suddenly distant behavior towards her other friend. Harry just stood where he was, trying to start a casual conversation with the redhead to ease the environment, but Ron abruptly stood up and headed up the stairs.

"Sorry, I'm feeling under the weather – excuse me." Harry didn't move as he watched his best friend head up the stairs, turning his eyes to the floor with grief; Hermione got up from her spot and walked over to Harry, putting a hand on his shoulder. The other teen looked to her with a confused and angered face.

"Any idea what the bloody hell I did this time to piss him off?" He asked irritated; the bushel hair girl could only shrugged and shook her head, before ushering Harry to come join her and Ginny for a game of wizard chess. He thought about it, although he really wanted to go up and confront Ron, he knew from past experiences that confrontation just made things worse, so he agreed. He sat with the two girls, all of them taking turns to play the winner, while Ginny and Hermione banter back and forth about the soon to be _Mrs_. Fleur Weasley, who none of the women in the household were fond of.

Upstairs, Ron flopped down on his bed, wincing as the hem of his pants dug lightly into his skin; he pulled his shirt up a little, staring down at the small bulge sticking out. He ran a gentle hand over the small bump, the small painful reminder of what was happening inside of him. He closed his eyes slowly and just let his hands rest tenderly over his stomach, not sure where his mind was travelling or what thoughts were forming as he let the world around him fade out.

"You won't feel it kick for another month or two, if that's what you're trying, dear." He startled awake from his daze, gazing up to the door to see his mother standing in the frame. He blushed as he quickly removed his hands, pulling his shirt back down; he was thankful most of his closet was hand-me-downs – it meant they were always a size or two too big for him. Molly smiled as she made her way across the room, sitting on the bed next to him.

"Feeling a little better now?"

"Hardly – I still can't keep a decent meal down, I'm tired all the time and now I have one of two possible fathers living in my house." He snorted, falling onto his back as he let out a weighted sigh, reaching to run his fingers through his hair. Molly giggled lightly, giving his small protruding belly a light pat, a warm smile on her face. She still had no clue who the other father in question was, but she had long figured Harry was one; it was only too easy to read her son, his actions, his habits. She had been a little skeptical on how she felt having Harry being parent to her grandchild, but as she pondered more on the thought – she loved Harry as much as her own, and would be thrilled to have him even closer in the family. She was certainly accepting this a lot better than she was accepting having Fleur part of the family soon.

Ron peeked up through his finger tips, reaching his hands to rest on his stomach, giving an odd sort of smile to his mother. Molly brushed his hair back from his face, before getting up to leave the room.

"Do tell Harry at least; I don't think it's quite fair how you've been treating him lately." Ron only gave a nervous laugh, not answering his mother as he watched her back disappear through his door. He couldn't tell Harry for various of reasons – for one thing, they were never romantically involved; as far as he knew the sable haired teen had an interest in his sister. Even though they were – "fucking" to say - Harry's heart was always focused on Cho at the time last year; they were frequently having sex less and less during that time least till the relationship just finally fell apart and broke off. Ron groaned as he counted the months back – Harry was definitely a possibility; they had practically dedicated a whole night to fucking each other senseless after that whole crash on the ministry. Harry was in pain from the loss of his godfather, and Ron was just trying to be the supportive best friend; unfortunately the only sure fire way he knew to drown out the other boy's suffering without alcohol was with sex – lots of hot and intense sex.

He sighed as he pulled his feet up on the mattress, laying his head back against his pillow staring up at the cracks in the ceiling. That night was right before they would be leaving school for the summer; he didn't really have the energy to make any rounds or even the time to fuck around with some of his other favourites. A nagging, nasal voice sounded in the back of his mind, reminding him that's what got him into his current mess. Ron groaned as the second memory floated to surface; of course after their stealthy get-away from Malfoy and crew in Umbridge's office, the blond sought him out to get back for feeding him the twins' trick candies. The only problem with their non-existing relationship – all their fights ended up with their adrenaline high, their bodies all worked up, and bloody teenage hormones raging all over the place.

Ron never understood how they always ended up like that – Malfoy would throw out spiteful insults till he hit the right nerve, Ron would lunge at him intending to slug him, then minutes later if they weren't rolling around on the floor trying to tear each other's clothes off, they were either bent over a desk, hiked up against the wall, or just sprawled on the floor. The redhead remembered – after the candy incident in that cow's, Umbridge's office, Malfoy had cornered him in an empty classroom – this was just before he proposed to Harry their night of nothing but sex. The blond hadn't even bothered with words and just flat out struck him in the jaw; weak, but it still startled Ron before he realised just what the other teen had done and struck back. As predicted, moments later he was pinned up uncomfortable on the desk, pants down, and the other pounding into his arse, as their hands stroked the other's body feverishly.

So there was possible father number two; the medi-witch was a little vague on the conception date, but it had definitely occurred sometime in June and those two had been the only partners during that month before heading home for summer.

He wasn't sure when he dozed off – he lost track of his sleeping patterns since he couldn't keep it straight; but he woke up to the feel of something warm and soft pressing against his lips. At first he thought he was dreaming, leaning up into the warm kiss, before jolting awake at the touch of hands feathering along his side. Blue clashed with green as Ron stared up face to face with Harry, their noses barely a centimeter away.

"Good morning – or should I say good evening, Mr. Weasley." Harry gave him a smile, but he could hear the unease in the other's voice, the slight despair and fear of rejection. Ron swallowed his breath, trying to scoot back a little to put a bit of distance between them.

"Hello – what time is it?"

"Dinner, according to your mum." He joked; Ron offered him a small smile as the other retracted away from him, allowing the redhead to sit up. Ron was about to stand up but the other caught him with his arm, leaning in with one swift motion to recapture their lips together in a more amorous kiss. The redhead protested against his mouth, but the other didn't seem incline to let him go that soon, reaching his arm around the slender waist. Ron tensed as his stomach bumped with Harry's flat stomach, hoping he wouldn't notice that Ron had a nice little sphere. He didn't even give it a thought.

"W-wait! I t-thought you said it was dinner?" Ron managed to gasp out, pulling away from the kiss long enough to speak. Harry only grinned at him, trailing his hand down the taller teen's spine, brushing his behind, then reaching to pull his leg to hike against his hip. Ron groaned at the feel of his best mate's heat pressed against his own. Their lips were locked again in silent passion, Harry rocking them back towards the bed as he gently pushed Ron to sit back down; the redhead compiled. Harry knelt down in front of him, pushing his knees apart so he could lean between them, pressing his cheek to the other's inner thigh. Ron's breath hitched feeling Harry's hot breathe against the painful, constricting heat in his pants; he had gotten extremely good at getting him hard over the past two years, and fast. He had to suppress a moan as Harry nipped at his prick through his jeans, leaning back on his arms as the other continued his ministrations, hands massaging his knees. Ron had to put hand over his mouth, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder as he heard the sound of his zipper being undone, his body anticipating the other's next movement.

Nothing in the world could vocalize his frustration and annoyance at the loud, short rapping on his door, near growling at the sound of his eldest brother's voice calling into the room.

"Ron? If Harry's in there with you too – mum says dinner is ready, so come on down before it's cold." There was a brief pause for a moment, before Bill added on to his thought. "Seriously – with the glares she's been sending Fleur, that's going to happen real quick."

His voice was light, yet laced with disappointment that his mother didn't agree on his spouse choice. Ron somehow managed to muster a steady reply, saying he'd been down in a moment; they both sat frozen until they were certain Bill's footsteps had faded down the hall, before looking up at each other. His brother's interruption brought him back to the reality at hand; he only finally just registered just what he and Harry were doing now that his head was at level thinking again. Harry seemed to have sensed his climbing disinterest, looking up at him with pleading eyes hands still clinging to his knees. Ron shook his head, tangling his fingers into dark black hair. It was no wonder he couldn't say no to sex with Harry.

"Make it fast – or next time it's mum who's gonna be coming up those stairs, and she barges in. Plus I'm starving." The smile on the other teen's face was oddly fulfilling as he ducked his head back down; Ron sucked in a hard breath at the feel, jutting his hips forward a little for better leverage.

The pair came down to the table several minutes later than Ron had said they would, so everyone was already seated and starting on their food. Ginny was sitting next to Fleur, the most forced smile he had ever seen on his sister's face; Hermione was sitting across looking sympathetic for the redhead girl, but Ron knew she was secretly glad it was not her sitting there. He and Harry took their seats, Molly immediately handing out handsome servings for both of them; Ron took his eagerly as his stomach gave a quiet growl. He just hoped the baby would be kind to him tonight and let him keep it in his stomach – he quite enjoyed this dish. After the dinner was over, the dishes cleaned and the "adults" had a quick drink and toast to celebrate Bill's new engagement (one Molly was not all too enthusiastic about), before the engaged couple left for their own home. Molly shooed the children up to bed, allowing for her and Arthur to have some private time for themselves. Ron couldn't help slide in a snogging comment, laughing as his mother turned a little shade of pink, before giving him a knowing look. He quickly ran up the stairs before his mother could punish him by giving him a chore to do – not that she'd make him do anything strenuous with the baby and all, but he certainly didn't want to stand around cleaning dishes by hand.

He flunked down on the bed and sprawled out on his back, letting out a satisfied moan as he rubbed his hands along his stomach. He was eating twice the normal amount he usually did thanks to this child, and his mother had actually encouraged the small snacking throughout the day. He glanced over at his bedside drawer, seeing the small bowl of assorted cookies and candies sitting there; it was there since he couldn't keep much food or liquid down even though it was improving a bit. There was a giant jug of water to keep him hydrated through the night and most of the day when it was needed. He out a low groan at the sudden strain in his pants, reaching down to undo the button and zipper, sighing as the pressure was relieved. He had no idea how he was going to get by once he began showing even more prominently. He was about to doze off for a good night's sleep when a little timid knock sounded at his door, hesitantly calling, "Open!"

"H-hey, going to bed already?" Harry asked as he peeked his head around the door; Ron nodded sleepily as a sudden wave of exhaustion hit him from nowhere. He let out a huge, cat-like yawn as he stretched, curling on to his side a hand still holding his stomach protectively. Harry fidgeted a little on his feet, before walking over to the bed, shyly sitting on the edge, his bright emerald green eyes staring down at the lanky redhead. Ron gazed up at him lazily, arm under his head, his other hand still idly running up and down his tiny bulge; Harry seemed to notice the gesture.

"Is your stomach all right? You ate quite a bit tonight." Ron froze, tugging his shirt down as far as it would go, before burying his hand under his head.

"Yeah – yeah, it's fine; sorry – habit." He excused; it had become a habit lately every time he thought about the energy inside of him, developing, taking form. He found himself wondering whether it was a girl or a boy; if it was Harry's child, would it have dark hair, or would their genes work together to produce a redhead. And if it was Draco's, which colour would win – blond or red. He was startled from his thoughts as Harry suddenly leaned in close to his face, his forest green eyes vibrant and gazing at him deeply. Ron pulled back slightly to give them space, but Harry didn't pick up on the hint, leaning to capture his mouth. Ron quickly put a hand between them, stopping the kiss. He looked at the redhead confused.

"Harry, look… we can't – we can't fuck anymore." He stated straight forward and simple; the sable haired teen blinked at him, as if trying to catch up with what his best mate just said. Ron rolled his eyes as he pushed Harry away from him so he could sit up, keeping a firm hand on the other's chest.

"Look, I didn't want to worry you about it, but I have… a condition now."

"What? Is it bad? It's not going to affect you at school or anything?" Ron shushed him, shaking his head.

"No, it's fine – I'm not going to die. It's just that – I'm in a delicate condition right now and I can't… I'm not allowed to engage in sexual intercourse of any kind. Um – straight or gay." He explained awkwardly; after he got hit with the big news he was an expecting "mother", he did a bit of reflection and thought back on his rounds during the past two years. It was a mistake to mix friendship and sex and he wished he could've taken back every one of those moments he had been sexually intimate with any of his friends the list of which included Dean and Seamus, and a few other Gryffindors including the twins' friend, Lee.

"O-oh – is it that serious? Oh shit! Then what we did earlier -?"

"No, no – that's fine; I can still have hand jobs and blowjobs, but um… I'm just not allowed to have it up the arse… or give it for that matter." He added rather embarrassingly; Harry knew he wasn't exclusive to Ron, and that the redhead wasn't exclusive to him either, and in the matter of top or bottom – they never really worked that part out and just followed whoever was feeling the most dominate. Harry leaned back from him, Ron lowering his hand as he adverted his eyes to the side.

"Um, what happens if you do… um…?"

"That… something bad, that's for sure." Ron answered as vaguely as he could; Harry gave an awkward, concerning nod. The two sat in odd silence, with nothing but the sound of crickets chirping outside the house in the evening light. After a bit, Harry bid his good nights and got up to leave the room; Ron wished him good night and listened to the door click close, before picking up his pillow and buried his face into it. He couldn't believe he told Harry something like that – granted it was true. The medi-witch recommended he stay away from any sex since she wasn't sure how delicate or stable his pregnancy was; he didn't want to have a miscarriage – not after suffering this far for it.

He removed the pillow from his face, letting it flop to his lap as he stared at the old wooden planks of his floor. He had no idea how he was going to repeat the same or similar speech to everyone else at school. Ron groaned, falling back onto his side as he brought his hands to his face; he was not looking forward to telling every guy who was familiar with his sex habits this – let alone the other four regulars, though Lee had thankfully graduated already, so that was one load off his mind. Malfoy was easy – as long as they didn't fight in a room alone, he could avoid having sex with him. A slight ache began to make itself known in his head; Ron whined at his own body before straightening out his bed again and changed out of his day robes into his pjs, crawling under the sanctity of his sheets. He barely closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before knocking straight out; he worry about school when he got there.

**-Chapter Two: End-**

Yes, as you can see by now - this is all going to be happening during the sixth book, Half-Blood Prince, so there may be some minor spoilers here and there. Next time.**  
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	3. Chapter 3

Yay new chapter time! Enjoy…

**Warnings:** Contains homosexual male on male activities/hints, mpreg – aka male pregnancy. Hate them? Then please hit back space and don't bitch in my face about it.

**Sexual Contain Warnings!** This chapter DOES contain nature of the sexual kind, and may not be suitable for persons under 18, or the ignorant, immature pricks who think they know everything!

**Rating:** T (may or may not changed)

**I, in no right, own any of the characters I'm about to exploit! They belong to JKR – she's the one making the money, not me!**

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**-Chapter Three: Skipping Steps-**

Ron sat disgruntled and sulking in his little corner of the compartment, slouching ungracefully in his seat, arms crossed over his chest and head leaning against the glass window as the scenery zipped by in a blur. He had finally finished off his prefect duties and was taking a break; his stomach rumbled and he dearly hoped it wasn't another nausea wave. He had a hard enough time trying to negotiate through all the students running up and down the corridors, without the urgency to run to the loo. He sighed as he torn his eyes away from the window – he was getting dizzy from watching all the colours blending together. Hermione was deep in some debate with Luna – something about Wrackspurts? He wasn't sure and didn't really care frankly.

He leaned his head back against his seat, letting his eyes fall shut as his thoughts wondered away from him. He was surprisingly happy he didn't have Harry sitting with them right now – he had gotten called off by Slughorn or whoever for whatever reason; he did however have to pass by Malfoy who was sitting with the rest of the Slytherins. It surprised him a little because he had thought the git would be flaunting his prefect powers over the first years, and would be trolling the corridors. His nose scrunched remembering the rather rude hand gesture the blond gave as he and Hermione passed by; perhaps it was the hormones, but he got more agitated than he normally would have. He still didn't understand what was working Harry up about the other teen; he honestly didn't see it as any concern – granted, seeing him at Borgin and Bruke's in Knockturn alley had been odd, he hadn't found anything different about the blond.

Ron sighed, subconsciously running a hand along his stomach; he was beginning to hope that Harry was the father and not Malfoy – he didn't think he could handle knowing it was that prat's child.

"Is your stomach feeling queasy, Ronald?" Luna's dreamy sing-song voice woke him from his day-dream, blinking at the fair-haired girl dumbly for a moment, before noticing both girls were staring at him. A light flush appeared across his cheeks, quickly tugging at his oversize sweater as he straightened up his posture.

"Um, n-no. Its fine, I just…" The door to their compartment slid open at that moment, saving Ron to make up an excuse as Neville walked into the space. He had never been more glad to see the boy in his life; the other sat down next to him with a sigh, knocking his head a few times against the back of his seat as he muttered to himself. Hermione glanced over at Ron, the redhead giving her a shrug, before she cleared her throat.

"So, uh – how was it?"

"Don't ask – I think I just officially made my own stupidity known." He answered wearily, letting out a dejected sigh as his light hazel-brown eyes glanced to the floor. Hermione tried to perk him up, recounting all the events from last year and all the things he has accomplished since the D.A. She had looked to Ron at some point, nudging at him with her eyes; Ron wasn't sure if his new hormonal imbalance made him more sensitive than usual or if Hermione was just being very obvious with her hint, stepping in at her pause.

"Exactly! I mean, look on the bright side – least you didn't end up bed-ridden because you couldn't handle a few _thoughts_." He exclaimed; he didn't really remember what happened to him that moment since whatever spell hit him had messed up his memory as well. He didn't even remember touching the brain, tentacle – whatever it was – that injured him in the first place. Neville looked over to him, giving him a small smile as he nodded his head in thanks.

"Where's Harry, by the way?" Luna asked, as if she just noticed that they were missing a person; Ron glanced around and it finally registered that Harry hadn't come in with Neville.

"I don't know – he just slipped under his cloak and followed after Zabini; we couldn't stop him."

"Oh bloody hell!" Ron muttered softly, burying his face into his palm.

"But we'll be pulling into Hogsmeade in less than twenty minutes!" Hermione said, an irritated expression on her face showed she was feeling the same sentiments as Ron was at the moment. He no doubt was trying to ease drop on Malfoy and find something to add to his list of suspicions against the blond. They decided it was a wise idea to start changing into their uniforms, the girls shooing the boys out first so they could change, before switching. Ron kept his back to Neville, not wanting to show the now noticeable ten week baby belly; while it was easy to cover it up with his loose robes, and large shirts, it was very apparent when he was stripped down like this. He vaguely recalled the medi-witch saying that he was showing quite significantly despite how early in the pregnancy he was, but there were a number of reasons she gave to explain it. The only answer he didn't like out of those was he was gaining more weight than he probably should be, but she encouraged it in the end since most women already have a layer of fat used to protect their fetus.

The train soon pulled into Hogsmeade station, but Harry still hadn't shown up; Ron worried a little more than he should've but managed to keep it well hidden, excusing that the other would probably catch up with them. He didn't have much time to look as the rush of students eagerly hurried off the train, many of the older students wanting to get into the horse-less carriages first. Ron stayed close with Neville, Hermione and Luna as they exited the train, their trunks in hand. The redhead nearly tripped as someone bumped hard into him from behind; he was thankful Neville was nearby and the other managed to catch him without toppling over himself. He thanked the dark-haired teen, before turning around to glare at whoever pushed him, not too surprised to see Draco standing there. The blond gave him a devious smirk, before moving to walk past him.

His mother did warn him about wild mood swings, even though she admitted that she was moodier when she was with the twins than any other time she was pregnant, and that it varied from case to case, Ron could already see he was going to be a very, very moody expectant. He ran after the other teen and shoved him hard enough to send the blond flying face first into the ground. He couldn't help the sudden giddiness completely take over his rage; he almost felt like he hadn't gotten angry at all as he saw the dust splattered and red coloured face of Draco glare at him. Ron gave him a hair flip for no practically reason, walking around him with the rest of the students as he caught up with the others, Hermione giving him a harsh frown. He didn't care – he got his revenge and it had felt bloody fantastic.

They had gotten to the school in record time, and although Ron would've rather headed straight to his dorm room to sleep, his stomach gave a low growl reminding him that a certain someone wanted food despite having eaten the hefty package his mother sent him off with, plus a good deal from the trolley on the train. He glared down at his own stomach – discreetly of course – mumbling under his breath.

"You better let me _keep_ it down, bloody bastard…" His stomach answered with an even louder growl, Neville and Luna looking back at him. Ron ducked his head down in embarrassment, muttering a small sorry. Hermione only rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Honestly – you're like a bottomless pit!" The blush on his face darkened, biting his lip to keep from retaliating – this was one thing he didn't want out in the open, not this early. They all sat down at their respective tables, watching as the first years got called up and sorted; Ron didn't pay attention to most of the new additions, not even to his own house, being a little too occupied at quieting his rumbling stomach till it was time to eat. He glanced around anxiously seeing a few of the guys at their table look over to him occasionally, the even fewer he caught eyes with winking at him. He kept his head ducked down for most of the meal; it was going to be a long while before he could demolish the hidden image he had built for himself.

About half-way through the meal, Harry had finally shown up alongside with Professor Snape – the least favourite teacher for all the students who weren't in his house. Harry trudged past the tables as fast he could – no doubt to get away from the hundreds of pairs of eyes following him to the Gryffindor table, wedging himself between Ron and Hermione of course.

"Where've you – oh lord! What did you do to your face?" Ron's voice came out more panicked then he wished, Harry looking at him confused as he picked up a spoon trying to get an idea of his face. Hermione pointed out the blood on his face, pulling out her wand and cleaned it up in an instant; the sable-haired teen thanked her, before reaching out for the food, only to have it disappear and be replaced with puddings. Once the conversations had started and Hermione finally dropped the question of what happened to Harry on the train, Ron turned to him, whispering low in his ear.

"You all right?" He asked in a worried tone; it seemed to surprise Harry a bit, giving the redhead a small smile as he reached his hand under the table, tenderly squeezing his knee.

"Yeah, I'm fine – I'll tell you and Hermione when we get upstairs, all right?" Ron nodded his head, quickly brushing Harry's hand away from his knee as they continued on with the desserts. Soon the feast was over and as usual, the headmaster Dumbledore stood up to give his customary speech; there was a shock and a flurry of whispers at his blackened hand, and an even bigger uproar upon hearing that Snape would be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and Slughorn was the potions teacher. Ron paid half attention to the new safety regulations, before it was time to head to bed; a suggestion he had never been more grateful to hear. He lagged behind with Harry as the students all rushed off to their respective dorms, seeing Hermione race off to gather the first year students. He knew he should be doing that too, since it _was_ part of his duty as a prefect, but he didn't quite feel up to it; he'd be getting an earful from her later, but he didn't care at the moment.

"What really happened to your nose?" He asked, once he was certain he and Harry were out of hearing range. Harry sighed as he recounted his disaster on the train with Malfoy; Ron winced at the part where the prat had stomped on his face, but he didn't laugh. Harry wouldn't have if it had happened to him, so there was no reason he should; something the other teen was grateful for. He was finding more and more reasons to wish for Harry to be the father. They were walking out of the Great Hall when Hagrid came up behind them, so they talked with him for a bit; while Ron was glad he didn't have to take the half-giant's class anymore, he couldn't help the guilt that neither were Harry and Hermione either.

As they were heading up to the Gryffindor dorms, Ron felt his stomach perform a flip – a feeling he had come to familiarise himself with lately, quickly clamping his hand over his mouth. He cursed in his head. Harry stopped in his steps, staring at Ron with a concerning glance.

"Ron? Are you all right?" Ron couldn't answer, making a quick motion with his hand that Harry could go on without him and ran as fast as he could to the nearest bathroom he could find – not caring if it was the girls or boys. He only barely managed to make it to the toilet, hanging off the stall walls as he hurled up every last bit of his dinner and pudding. He cursed loudly in between the gagging and coughing – that had been damn good pudding. Shakily, he walked over to the sink and quickly rinsed the acids and bile out of his mouth, gagging at the horrid aftertaste still lingering in his mouth; he dearly hoped someone had a mint or something when he got to the dorms. Wiping his mouth and hands dry he weakly headed out of the bathroom, pausing a moment to glance up at the sign on the door – thankfully it was the boys bathroom.

With that he began the grueling journey to the Gryffindor tower; he hated how far away the dorms were sometimes and he whimpered to himself at the thought of having to trek through these halls carrying about six-nine pounds worth in his stomach later. He sighed, putting his hands over his stomach, glaring down at it; he couldn't wait till the baby finally let him have a decent meal in peace. Although he was throwing up less frequently than a month ago, there were the small occasions when the little one decided it didn't like its meal which of course just meant misery for the "mother".

Ron sighed again before resuming his course back to his room; all he wanted to do right now was change into his pjs and crawl under the covers and curl up till noon. Not that he could sleep that long granted classes started tomorrow. He barely made it to the next flight of stairs before someone grabbed him harshly by the arm, pulling him aside into the empty hallway. Alarmed, he tried to swing at his captor, only to be pushed up against the wall tears welling in his eyes from the stinging pain in his nose.

"OW BLOODY FUCKING HELL!" He screamed out, his voice echoing off the walls; a cold, hushed voice hissed at him, slowly managing to open his eyes to see the only person who had the guts to do this.

"Oh sure, wake the whole castle up, why don't you filth!" Draco spat, arms crossing over his chest; Ron only groaned inwardly – this was the exact situation he had hoped to avoid. His nose ached miserably; he didn't think Malfoy was that strong considering his punch last year had barely fazed him. He wondered if he was more susceptible to pain due to the pregnancy.

"What the bloody hell was that for, you fucking git?" He cried out softly, trying to hold back the tears threaten to come for a different reason besides the pain. Malfoy didn't move, staring at him hard.

"_That_ was for shoving me into the ground earlier!"

"Well then maybe you shouldn't have bloody pushed me first." Ron retorted calmly, managing to get his emotions under control, nursing his sore nose. The blond only stood there a moment, scowling at him before he practically jumped forward in one smooth motion. Ron barely had time to register the move before finding himself shoved up against the wall, the shorter teen pressing his shoulders hard to the stone surface, crushing their mouths together. The redhead tried to protest, but he couldn't push the other off him; this was out of sequence. Their blood was usually pumping by the time it got to this stage, but this time Draco had gone straight for the plunge, his hands already in the process of undoing Ron's belt.

Ron managed to grab his hands, gasping heavily for air as he finally managed to pull away from the blond, panting as he stared at the other in disbelief.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"Oh come on, you know how this always ends up – might as well skip a few steps." Draco leaned up to capture his mouth again, but Ron managed to turn his head away however the other decided to settle with his neck. Ron moaned as a skilled tongue found his sensitive spot, his breath hitching as Draco undid the zipper of his pants, snaking his hand in to grab his prick.

"Gained a little weight, weasel? Was wondering when that black hole of yours was going to finally fill up." That drawling, nasal voice sneered in his ear before feeling his lobe being nipped hard at; Ron didn't get a chance to rebuke as the hand on his heat began to move, his own hands gripping wildly at the other's robes. He was vaguely recalling a more embarrassing confession when his mother was explaining about the pregnancy cycle. She had some days where she just couldn't stand being touched, even just slightly by her husband, but on other days she would literally attack him to the bed when she was carrying all of them. Ron had to wonder what it was that being pregnant made anything sexual just more… sensual.

All rational thought flew out the window as the hand on his prick quickened, his breathing coming in short, almost timely gasps, tearing at the other's robes in frantic pleasure. Draco traced his tongue along the bottom of his chin, down his neck pausing to kiss his adam's apple, before continuing on down to the collarbone. Ron froze as he felt the blond's hand travel to his arse, feeling long, slender fingers taper along the elastic of his underwear. He knew Draco didn't take it and never would and Ron never had the strength to overpower him; he tried to bring his brain back to rational thought, to muster up the energy to pull away from the erotic feelings. He felt he was losing that battle until the blond pressed his perfect flat, slender stomach against his small, protruding one and suddenly all thoughts of sex just fled from Ron's mind. All he could care about was protecting the child inside of him.

"GET OFF!" He screamed out, pushing his hands hard against Draco's chest; he didn't think he had pushed him that hard, but somehow he managed to send the blond flying across the hall, his back colliding with the wall on the other side. Cold, moon-grey eyes glared up at him, burning with irritation and more anger than Ron's ever seen in them.

"What the _fuck_, Weasley?" Ron only dignified him with shaking his head, before quickly running out to the stairs, trying to ignore the painful throbbing in his lower regions. He sighed before ducking into the nearest bathroom to take care of it, then continued his way up to bed. The common room was near empty, thankfully, save for a few students talking or playing games. He ran up the stairs, not looking to see if Harry or Hermione were still downstairs near slamming the door open as he entered the shared room. He crawled into the four poster bed that belonged to him, and roughly drew the curtains around it, secluding himself into the only private space he ever had in his life and cried. He buried his face into his hands, trying to muffle his sobs as he recounted the confrontation in the hallway. He couldn't figure out if he was upset, hurt or scared, but whichever he was he hated it – he hated how vulnerable he had felt just now and began to wonder if he could really change his habits.

"Ron?" The soft voice calling his name made him lift his head up, quickly wiping away at the tears as he tried to halt them. The figure stopped just at the edge of his bed, but it was too dark to see the outline through the curtains.

"Y-yeah?" He choked out, reaching over to pull them apart to reveal Neville standing behind them, a worried look on his face. Ron tried to offer him a smile, but found he didn't have the energy to; he gestured for the other to take a seat, the dark-haired boy hesitantly climbing on to his bed. They sat in silence in the dim room, listening to the steady breathing of their other roommates, sleeping soundly. Ron groaned inwardly as he remembered two of them would need to be informed of his "no-sex" condition.

"A-are you all right?" Neville finally asked in a low whisper, hazel-brown eyes gazing at the redhead steadily; Ron nodded his head, not sure if he could trust his voice at the moment.

"Are you sure? You seemed pretty upset when you came in just now?"

"I'm f-fine, just tired is all. I'm sorry, but I'd really like to sleep right now, Nev." The dark-golden hair boy nodded his head, quietly crawling off his bed and slipped through the curtains. Ron thought about changing into his pjs, but he didn't have the energy to retrieve them from his trunk, and it wouldn't be the first time he's just slept in his underwear. Before he could unbutton his shirt, Neville poked his head in through the thin red and gold hanging cloths.

"Um, I know I'm n-not reliable sometimes, but I – I'm always here, if you need an ear or a shoulder to c-cry on." He stuttered; Ron looked at him surprised, before a small smile formed on his face, nodding his head.

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." There was a light blush across the other's face that Ron barely caught, but Neville nodded and returned his smile, before closing the curtains and headed back to his own bed. Ron sighed in content, before working on stripping himself down to his underwear, pulling the covers back to tuck himself in. He idly rested his hand on his stomach, snuggling his face into his pillow as he gave it a small pat.

"It's all right – I won't let anything happen to you." He whispered in a hushed voice, before drifting easily off to sleep.

**-Chapter Three: End-**


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